


Steady Love

by NoPleaseStayHere



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Fluff, Roommates, Tags to be added, falling back in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 20:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPleaseStayHere/pseuds/NoPleaseStayHere
Summary: Betty Cooper wakes up in the hospital after an accident, but she can't remember what happened - or the man in front of her, claiming to be her fiance.





	Steady Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm finally back! I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

_There now, steady love, so few come and don't go_  
Will you won't you, be the one I always know?  
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around  
You're the only one who knows, you slow it down • Look After You - The Fray  
.  
.  
.  
. 

__

"Baby? Open your eyes," A voice instructs her. She can feel a warm hand gripping her own, but try as she might, she can't do as the voice instructs. Her eyelids just feel so _heavy_.

She feels a squeeze of her hand followed by whispers she can't quite make out. The hand in hers gently rubs a thumb back and forth against her palm, which feels comforting, she thinks. There's pressure on the tip of her index finger, an ache in her head and an overwhelming pain radiating in her left arm.

A rhythmic beep is filling the air, louder than the voices now, with steady whirrs and thrums of different machines, and she realizes with a start she’s in the hospital. She wins the fight with her heavy eyelids, and, though her vision is bleary, she makes out a couple figures in the doorway. 

She turns her head very slowly and tries to clear her throat. The man gripping her hand notices, his head snapping up immediately. “Bets, thank God.” He brings her hand to his mouth, but before he can press his lips against her skin, she pulls her hand away, stiffening. 

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion and she can see the pain flash in his eyes. “I-I’m Jughead.” He stops and takes a breath. “Your fiancé.” 

He stands up straighter, trying to recover from her dismissal, standing to get the attention of the doctors conferencing in the doorway. “Excuse me!” He says louder than he needs to. “She’s awake. Betty is awake.” 

She blinks, trying to clear some of the haze that clouds her vision. A tall, hard looking woman wearing a white coat strides toward her, a stethoscope around her neck. “Miss Cooper, do you know where you are?” 

Betty takes a breath and nods her head once. “The hospital.” She notices the man - Jughead - taking his seat next to her once more, this time placing his hands together in his lap. 

The doctor smiles and makes a note on the clipboard in her hand. “Do you know which hospital you’re in? Where you live?”

She nods again, then closes her eyes. Her eyes just feel so damn _heavy_. “I live in Riverdale.” She opens her eyes in time to see the doctors eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. 

“Actually, Miss Cooper, you’re in Boston. You’re at Mass General right now. Do you remember anything about the accident?”

Betty looks down at herself in the hospital bed, her legs making small, almost indistinguishable bumps in the layers of bedsheets. There’s a pulse oximeter clipped to her index finger and a white cast on her arm. She lifts her right hand to run her fingers over her forehead and feels gauze wrapped around what she can only assume is a head wound.

“I need water,” She murmurs. The doctor that’s doing all the talking is looking down at her expectantly, while the other, a male, has been looking down at his clipboard the entire time. Jughead hands her a styrofoam cup and she sips at it slowly.

“Miss Cooper? What’s the last thing you remember?” The doctor asks again. Betty can tell she’s trying to be kind, but it’s making her more frustrated than anything. She’s trying to remember something, anything before waking up in this room. 

“I don’t know,” she says exasperatedly, handing the cup back to Jughead. “I… I remember a horn, I think.” She closes her eyes and scratches at her forehead before wincing and dropping her hand into her lap. “A loud horn but I don’t remember actually seeing anything.”

“And before that?” The doctor prompts, scribbling on a note on her clipboard. 

Betty sighs. “Skating on a pond in the winter, but I’m not sure where or when it would’ve been. Eating a burger at Pop’s in Riverdale… and my parents, with boxes in the car.” She adds. “I guess they would’ve been dropping me off at college. Did I… did I move here for college?”

The doctor stays quiet, but the man beside her clears his throat. “Yeah, Bets, you went to Northeastern. That’s where we met.” 

The male doctor speaks up. “Mr. Jones, if you don’t mind, we need a moment to talk to your fiancée.” 

He nods curtly, says he’ll refill his water glass, and walks out of the room.

The doctors ask her a flurry of questions; if she remembers her full name, her family, where she works and lives, what she remembers about her fiancé, who the current president is. They have her repeat word after word until they’re satisfied with her answers. They go into a lengthy explanation of what they believe happened at the scene of the accident. They tell her she has a head injury and that could be causing the - as they put it - amnesia. They say memory is a tricky thing and amnesia presents differently for every patient - she could have her memories back in a few hours, a few days or, never again. They tell her that when she’s at home, many different things could trigger a memory. After that, they inform her that she has physical therapy appointments twice a week, and a prescription to pick up to help manage her pain.

As if on cue, Jughead comes back into the room, two cups of water in his hands. He strides over to her, holding the white cup out to her and she takes it gratefully - answering all those questions has her throat feeling like it’s on fire. “You’ll be discharged soon.” He says quietly, almost to himself. “Are you hungry? You were on your way to meet me for dinner when…” he trails off, not sure whether or not he should finish the sentence. “We could order a pizza or something when we get home.”

When we get home. A simple statement, but Betty hadn’t realized that, of course she lives with this man - her supposed fiancé. To her, right now, he is a stranger, and she has to go home with him. She tries to keep her breathing even, tries not to let the sudden panic swallow her up. “Pizza sounds good.” She takes another sip of her water.

“You don’t remember me at all, do you?” He asks, taking a sip of his own water and then sets it down on the table behind him. 

“No, I’m sorry,” she states, staring down at the beautiful ring on her left hand, only inches away from where her cast starts.

*

“Well, this is home sweet home,” Jughead announces, pushing the door of the apartment open. He gives Betty a wide berth, placing his jacket into the closet.

She drops what’s left of her purse on the kitchen counter, including her smashed cell phone and wallet that looks like it was run over, and studies the space around her. The front door leads straight into a small kitchen, decorated with a nice backsplash, she thinks. There’s a closet to the left, and open concept into the living room. She wanders toward the big window at the back of the apartment, where the living room ends. The entire wall, from the kitchen into the living room, is bare brick, and she thinks it would feel homey if it seemed at all familiar. 

“Do you want the usual?” Jughead asks from the kitchen, the fridge door open, his head inside.

“What’s the usual?” Betty asks, still staring out the window at their amazing view. 

Jughead sighs, closing the refrigerator and walking over to the window. “I’m sorry - we usually get an extra large pepperoni and bacon from Pizza Nova. Does that sound okay? We can get something else.”

She turns away from the window and takes in the man in front of her - he looks as nervous as she feels. She crinkles her nose, thinking about the pizza choice. “Can we add green olives and some onion?”

He laughs, forgetting himself for a moment. “You don’t like olives, Bets.”

She shrugs. “It sounds good.” 

He nods, smiling at her. “It does sound good. I’ll call it in, they’re just around the corner. You can pick a movie to watch for when I get back?”

He looks as if he’s about to lean in to kiss her, then stands straight and runs his hand through his hair. 

Once he’s out the door, Betty makes her way out of the living room and turns down the hall to search for the bathroom. The first door on the right is a bedroom, so she flicks on the light and looks into the space. There’s a queen sized bed with dark wooden end tables on either side. One has a silver lamp on top, piled high with classic novels, and a phone charger resting against the stack of books. The other has a neat stack of papers held together with a paperclip, a matching silver lamp, and a reusable water bottle.

She traces a finger along the neatly made bed, her eyes catching on the picture frame resting on top of a dresser. She picks up the frame, recognizing herself right away - her head is bent backwards, her mouth open and her eyes closed tightly. She’s standing beside a brunette, her head tipped forward, hair blocking most of her face, except her wide-open mouth, mimicking Betty’s. The two of them were laughing, but she can’t remember the girl, or the moment.

She looks at the two photographs framed on the walls - one, a beautiful castle surrounded by a blue sky and lush trees, reds and oranges and some still holding onto their green leaves from the summer. At the edge of the photograph, she can see what looks like a metal bridge, and she wonders where this was taken. The next is a black and white picture over the bed of a man and a woman, and it doesn’t take her long to realize the man is Jughead - he’s down on one knee and she’s covering her mouth with her hand in surprise. They’re in front of a beautiful pond, weeping willow trees and a bridge just visible behind them. She doesn’t remember it at all.

Betty sighs, and looks down at the bloody, dirty t-shirt the hospital sent her home in. She attempts to pull it over her head, forgetting about the cast on her left arm momentarily. She pulls her right arm out first, then manages to get it over her head before gently pulling it loose from her left arm and throwing it on the ground. She looks into the closet, frowning when she sees shirt after shirt that she’d have to pull over her head - that isn’t happening again.

She settles on what she assumes is Jughead’s flannel shirt, it has buttons and she doesn’t care if wearing a strangers shirt is weird, damn it, it’s easier. She has the forethought to unbutton the left sleeve as much as she can to fit her cast comfortably, then manages to get the shirt over both arms and does up a few buttons in the front as best she can with one working arm. 

She finds the bathroom, splashes cold water on her face, and looks at the bandage that replaced her gauze-halo from the hospital. There’s a drop of blood showing through and she sighs, wishing she could remember exactly what happened. 

Betty makes her way to the living room to pick out a movie, but stops short when the front door opens. Jughead makes his way inside with a giant pizza box, a white paper bag set on top. “Sorry I took so long,” he says, throwing his keys on the kitchen counter. “I stopped at the pharmacy to grab your prescription.”

Betty nods and plays with the long sleeve covering her right hand. 

“Did you pick a movie?” Jughead asks, bringing the pizza box into the living room.

Betty trails behind him, gathering the sleeve in her palm. “No, I took a while changing my shirt. I hope you don’t mind, I think this is yours.” She sits on the couch in front of the coffee table with the pizza.

Jughead shakes his head, heading back toward the kitchen. He’s gone for a moment, and comes back with paper towel and two glasses of water. “I’ve never minded you in my clothes, Bets.” He sits next to her, making sure he gives her more room than he normally would, and hands her one of the glasses. “They look better on you, anyway.”

She smiles despite herself, lets the long sleeve fall away from her right hand, and grabs a slice of pizza. “I knew this was going to be delicious,” she laughs and takes another bite.

“Hey, don’t look at me, I’ve been trying to get you to eat olives for years.” He clears his throat and picks the remote up from the coffee table. “What do you feel like watching?”

Betty shrugs, which is a little bit painful now that whatever they gave her at the hospital is wearing off. “Something funny.”

They settle on _We’re The Millers_, and Jughead holds his tongue when she claims she’s never seen it before. They watched it on their third date, on Jughead’s beat-up laptop, sharing earbuds so they wouldn’t disturb anyone else in the student lounge. They ended up disturbing just about everyone, since they couldn’t stop their laughter.

By the end of the movie, there are two slices of pizza left, and Betty looks like she’s fighting to keep her eyes open. Jughead takes the pizza box to the kitchen, grabs Betty’s medication, and brings it back to the living room. 

“Here, Bets, take one of these before you go to sleep.” He holds the plastic container out to her.

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m not that tired.” She accepts the container and reads the label.

“Yes, you are, I didn’t think you were going to make it through the end of the movie.” He pushes his hair back. “I’m going to sleep out here, on the couch, so don’t worry about that.” He says, practically reading her mind.

Betty shakes her head. “This is your apartment, Jughead, you shouldn’t have to -”

“It’s our apartment, Betty. We’ve lived here for two years.” He sighs. “I know you don’t remember, but this is your home, too. You take the bedroom. I’m okay out here, really.”

Betty nods curtly, and stands from the couch. “Could you…” she pauses, searching for the right words. “Show me which side of the bed is mine?” 

“Yeah,” Jughead agrees, putting the leftover slices of pizza in a container, then shoves it in the refrigerator. “I have to grab a pillow for the couch.” 

Betty grabs her cup of water and makes her way back into the unfamiliar bedroom, Jughead following close behind. He shows her which drawer her pyjama pants are kept it, assures her that it’s fine she sleeps in his button up, and tells her the electric toothbrush with the blue base in the bathroom is hers. He wishes her a good night's sleep, grabs a pillow from the closet, and closes the bedroom door behind him. 

She struggles to get into her pyjama shorts but when she does, she feels a small sense of success. She sits on the bed, takes a deep breath, and goes over what she remembers from the day. 

_I don’t remember waking up. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast, or for lunch, or going to work._ All she can come up with is that fucking blaring horn and waking up in the hospital. 

She stands, making her way into the small bathroom. She empties her bladder, washes her hands, and splashes more water on her face. She would worry about washing her face properly tomorrow, when she can be bothered. She brushes her teeth, then exits the bathroom.

She turns the light off in the - _her_ \- bedroom and pulls the bedsheets back, climbing under the covers. The weight of the day finally catches up to her and she lets the tears she didn’t know she was holding back, to fall freely.

*

Jughead only allows himself to succumb to sleep when the muffled sound of Betty’s sobs have stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been in the hospital, let alone had amnesia, so please forgive any big mistakes (like, I really don't know if they'd put a cast on you while you're unconscious) but for story's sake, we'll just pretend you can.


End file.
